Lively
by LesserPrincess
Summary: A few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione see's Ron struggling with the loss of his brother. After racking her brain on ways to make him feel better, she finally comes to a decision; she's going to take him to a muggle amusement park.


She left in a week. The tickets were booked, her bags were packed, and she'd made a plan as to what she was going to say when she arrived at the door of Wendell and Monica Wilkins' flat. She was going alone. Harry, Ginny, and Ron had all offered to accompany her on her journey, but she refused their company for the sole reasons of their busy schedules and her lack of knowledge on just how emotional she might become. It had been almost a year since she'd seen them last. It felt like decades to her, even though she knew they hadn't missed anything at all. She sighed, pressing the gas pedal of her rented vehicle to accommodate the speed signs, and wondered if the time lapse without her would become a realization once she lifted the spell.

She'd helped at Hogwarts after the battle to help repair the damage done. She was the only one of the trio to do so, because as much as the Weasley's offered, everyone insisted they take the time to mourn the loss of their beloved brother and son, Fred. Hermione insisted Harry accompany them to ensure Ron and Ginny both had a shoulder to cry on. So, she spent her days at her former school, and flooed back to the Burrow for a few hours of sleep before getting up at sunrise and flooing back. As much as she wanted to rebuild the place she called home, she couldn't help but feel guilty about not being in two places at once. The Burrow was her home too. The Weasley's had taken her in, broken bread with her, protected her, and treated her as their own; she couldn't help but feel as though she'd abandoned them in their time of need, even if it was Arthur who told her to go. _Hogwarts needs you._ He told her. _We will be fine._ For more than a week she did that; traveling back and forth exhausted her body, which was already worn down from the months of running. Soon, with the physical and emotional toll, she couldn't bear it anymore. So, she returned home, her other home, the Burrow, and found things just as she imagined them. Segregation between family members seemed to make the house cry in misery, but she knew it stemmed from the absence of noise that couldn't cover up the creeks. Molly would make rounds around the house to check and see if her children needed anything, when in reality, she needed everything. The boy she birthed, the boy she raised, the boy she watched turn into a man was stolen from her in a matter of seconds. Nothing was worse than losing a child, but Molly had to make sure she didn't lose another in the process.

Family dinners consisted of chewing, swallowing, sips of water, and the voices of Harry and Hermione as they tried to lift the heavy burden of grief off the table, even if it was for just an hour. But, the dinners didn't hardly last that long. Weasley children would come and go as they pleased. As Percy finished Ginny would arrive or so forth, and it was almost guaranteed Ron would show up last. As soon as they were done, they'd place their plate in the sink and retire upstairs. She watched Harry offer to do the dishes for Mrs. Weasley once, it only resulted in tears and Harry then being forced to retire upstairs as well; he later told her that he came to realize he shouldn't try and take away distractions. Fred wouldn't even come down, for whenever Ginny saw him, she burst into tears. He would go to the kitchen around 3am, when everyone was asleep, and fix himself leftovers or a sandwich. He didn't want anyone to see him; he didn't want to see himself.

He was nothing but a constant reminder of what they'd lost. When she entered his room to collect dirty laundry, she found his bedsheets covering all reflective surfaces in an effort to hid his face. She had to take the sheets, and she did. Later, patrolling the halls in search of the nearest bathroom, she heard sobs from his room; sobs that before had been covered by the bedsheets she stole. Fred had always been kind to her, she could have even considered him a friend, but the effects of his loss hurt her more than the loss itself. No one deserved pain like she saw; not even Voldemort. She had planned to leave for Australia as soon as the war ended, but with the Weasley's-with Ron-like this, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

He wouldn't talk to her; he'd simply sit there with his head on her shoulder or hers on his. She found he liked to play with her hair. Whether if this was a method of distracting himself or if he genuinely cared for the activity, she couldn't be certain yet. Whichever it was, she didn't mind. The first words he spoke to her since the battle were formed in a question; whether or not she would attend the funeral. She always knew she was included, but no one had given her an official invitation until the words left his mouth. It was almost as if no one wanted to say them.

The funeral reminded her of the wedding in guests, flowers, and seating arrangement, but it was much darker. The sun was shining, and it was warm, but the air seemed impossible to breathe. Once again, Ron spent the afternoon with his head on her shoulder, only this time he wasn't afraid to sob into it. During this time, she held him tighter and kissed his head, stroking his hair. She couldn't help but cry herself as Percy read aloud what his father couldn't. The pristine Weasley, the proper Weasley, the one who didn't seem to have an emotion to his name broke into spontaneous tears at the podium and had to be hauled away by cousins she didn't recognize. Ginny took the stand next, and finished the paper while only choking a few times. As her eyes reached the end of the writing she looked up and said he own piece. When she did, the fire in her eyes went out and she was left staring into the crowd of gingers that reminded her all too much of the brother she had lost, but he demeanor was no longer hysterical. Ginny seemed to have formed some sort of closure out of her words.

After the funeral she announced her plan to Ron: she would be leaving the Burrow at the end of the week to go to her old home, where she would research and piece together clues as to her parents whereabouts then go from there. He simply nodded and kissed her on the forehead while holding her hand. When she got there she settled in quickly. Harry was sure to call her with updates on the family, but not much seemed to change within the first couple days of her departure. Ron remained a recluse, refusing to talk to anyone, even Harry. Harry oftentimes found his friend sleeping downstairs on the couch, just so he could be alone. There had to be something she could to, but she didn't know what. There was no way she would leave the country when he needed her so badly. She thought about it over the weeks she spent in her house. Soon, the phone calls were an equal chance of being Ron or Harry. According to Harry, Ron would only talk to her, and occasionally Ginny. She could sense the reconstruction in his voice when he spoke. Every day he seemed to be getting better, even if he was still miserable. His voice developed tone once more, and she started to hear the voice she'd been hearing for the last seven years of her life. However, though he was better; he was still far from okay.

Now, with her plans set in a week, she found herself bouncing in her seat due to several pot holes in the Weasley's long driveway. She swore at herself for not dodging them, hoping she didn't do any damage to the axles. She discovered when she got her license that she had a mild case of road rage, getting angry at other drivers and cursing at them in the safety of her cab. In reality, it was the only time she swore, for that she was proud. After being in the driver's seat for many hours, she finally came to a halt in front of the Burrow, locking eyes with Bill Weasley as he took care of their famous gnomes.

She emerged and Bill stepped forward to greet her. Grabbing a cloth along the way, he wiped his hands and squinted in the bright light of the sun. "Hello, Hermione," he said, eyes darting from her to the vehicle behind her, "What have you got going?"

"It's a long story." she said, "But in short, I was hoping to take Ron out in the Muggle world, you know, show him a few things. I didn't think we should use apparition." Bill nodded his head and motioned upstairs.

"He's up there. Didn't tell me he had plans though." The older Weasley commented. Hermione looked at the ground and drew circles in the dirt with her foot.

"He doesn't know either. I didn't tell him, it was supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh." He responded, looking back at the house towards Ron's room. "Good. Because I was about to give him a little lecture about how if you want to keep a girl around, you need to actually be awake when she picks you up. Head on in, there's biscuits on the table if you haven't eaten yet."

Hermione grinned at him comment, and began to head inside while he took off in the other direction. "Alright, thank you!" She shouted. He waved goodbye to her before continuing his work, and she thought for a second about how good natured all the Weasleys were in their own way. Bill was right, she hadn't eaten since the night before since she'd spent the early morning hours on the road. She thought witnessing the sunrise through your dashboard would be beautiful; it wasn't. She almost didn't see Harry standing there while biting into her biscuit. He was just as surprised to see her as she was him.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, with a hint of confusion.

Hermione chewed and swallowed before responding, "Hey."

Harry chuckled, and took a sip from the steaming cup in front of him as he flipped through the pages of the Daily Profit. He made a face. "Sources reveal that war hero, Neville Longbottom, has been caught in a sex scandal with known Death Eater sympathizer, Pansy Parkinson." He read aloud before laughing. Hermione somewhat choked on her bit of biscuit and had to take a drink out of someone's water. "And I thought they'd already come up with everything."

Loud steps came from the stairwell, causing both of them to look in that direction. Half dazed, Ron approached Harry in his sleepwear and pointed at his mug.

"Is that coffee?"

"Yeah-" But he was too late to protest. Ron scooped up the cup and took several drinks from it before setting it back down again, and wiping his lip on his sleeve. "Do you want your own?" Harry asked with a hint of irritation.

"I'm good mate, thanks." Ron, too tired to detect Harry's implication, answered. He shuffled over to the plate of biscuits and grabbed two before walking past Hermione, and sitting on the couch near the other end of the room. Hermione smiled, finding him somewhat humorous, but Harry looked back and forth between them.

"That wasn't Ginny." He told Ron. The ginger haired boy turned around to question his best friend, but his words were stolen from him when he instead saw Hermione standing there. The brunette smiled and rose her eyebrows.

"Oh," Ron got up immediately and approached her. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting you."

"It's alright. You're tired, and no one was expecting me." She hugged him. It felt nice to feel his strong arms around her again. She buried her nose in his shoulder before letting him go. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"What surprise?" He asked her, with a cautious smile.

"Go get dressed." She said, patting his shoulder. "Be down as soon as you can, we need as much time as possible."

"Okay." A smile crept across his lips and he turned to ascend up the staircase in which he came. "I'll be right down then."

"And take a shower!" Harry yelled after him. "She's too nice, but I'm not; you smell like shit."

"Whatever." Ron whispered in a laugh, gripping the railing. The green eyed boy smirked before returning to his paper.

Within fifteen minutes, Ron came back down the stairs dressed in muggle clothes resembling Hermione's. By the state of his slightly damp hair, it was evident he'd taken Harry's advice. He had a jacket draped over his arm as he approached her again. Ready to go, Hermione nodded goodbye to Harry.

"Have him home by 10." Harry called after them jokingly. The two laughed before closing the front door on him. When Ron turned to find the car in his driveway, his eyes widen in shock.

"What's this?" He asked.

"It's a car, Ronald."

"No, I know that, but what's it doing here?" He looked at her as she opened the passenger's side door for him. He urged him to get in without answering his question; he did, but not without asking again when she joined him in the cab.

"Well, if we are going to be going to the muggle world, we need to blend in don't we?" She smiled, fastening her seatbelt.

"Muggle world?"

"Yes." Hermione confirmed. She shifted the car into gear and began their long drive. "There's something I think you'd enjoy there."

Ron looked at his lap, and grinned to himself before looking at her again. He copied her in the action of buckling his seatbelt and leant back to enjoy the ride. It was silent in the car, the radio wouldn't work given they were in wizarding territory. As she drove, Hermione was careful to avoid the potholes.

It was about two hours into the drive when Hermione noticed that Ron was leaning his head against the window, his eyes shut. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm like function, indicating the kind of peace she'd wanted to see from him for some time. She smiled, and made sure to drive extra easy so she didn't disturb him.

He was a heavy sleeper, Hermione knew this from their days in the tent, so that's why she woke him up about twenty minutes before they reached their destination. He groaned, rubbed his eyes, and ducked his head down before lifting his eyes to see her. Though she kept her attention on the road, he could see the purple hue forming under her eyes, which were incredibly drooped. He suggested the two of them stop for coffee at a small cafe, but she insisted they were almost there; he didn't know where 'there' was, but he was both excited and anxious to find out. He didn't think she would take him somewhere dangerous; he just wasn't a fan of surprises, especially not right now. Seeing how tired she was, he thought about offering to drive back, but realized the fault in his plan given the last time he'd driven a car, he crashed it into the Whomping Willow. He settled for reaching out and stroking her hair, playing with the ends when his hand came near.

She took an off ramp, and when they climbed higher and higher, Ron turned his head because of an odd formation in the corner of his eye. A little ways in the distance were bright colors, high signs, and beams. Beams were everywhere, and they seemed to reach the moon. Wondering exactly what that place was, he saw a car zip across the metal structure. He was shocked. What person would be crazy enough to go that high?

"Hermione?" He asked, still peering out the window. "What is that place over there?"

She failed in her attempt to resist a smile while her cheeks became tained pink. She turned towards the structure he was speaking of. She looked at him though his gaze was not on her. "That's where we're going." She answered, he turned sharply to look at her. "They have a lot of different kinds of food there. That's why I said no to getting coffee. I'm sure they have it; we can get it with lunch."

He beamed at her in a way she hadn't seen in a long time. A golden glow appeared to radiate from him, or maybe it was just the sun's rays gleaming off his hair. Either way, she felt a sudden warmness in the pit of her stomach, so much so it caused her to grip the steering wheel harder as she turned into the parking lot. From the looks of it, not many people had the same idea she had. Thinking back, she realized muggle kids had gone back to school, and given it was in the middle of the week, most adults were most likely at work. Though she loved the bustling crowds at fairs and such, she wanted Ron to enjoy himself as much as possible. Many activities would draw his attention, but waiting in line wasn't one of them. Pulling the keys from the ignition, she smiled at her awestruck partner beside her.

He was captivated by the area around him. It would be a lie to say he hadn't been to the muggle world before, but he never saw anything like this, not in person anyway. A sudden memory popped up from his early childhood, it was of his dad telling his mum about some place muggles compared to magic. He said it was bright, smelling of food, and had an aura of giddiness that could be spotted for miles. This had to be the place he was speaking of. Ron clambered out of the car, his long legs getting caught on the interior. He caught himself on the door, then slammed it shut. The horn echoed throughout the lot when Hermione hit the remote and locked the vehicle. The headlights flashes once, the the machine was quiet. He thought about how muggles made really odd, yet helpful things.

Hermione came around the front. Flinging her purse around her shoulder, and pulling her hair back over it, she stepped closer in the slightest.

"Ready to go?" She asked, still standing a ways away from him. They'd never talked about what happened during the war; she kissed him, and he kissed her back, but that was it. Their progression halted on the battlefield. At night, as she laid alone in her bed, she often wondered how he felt. Was the kiss real for him, or was it progress for the sake of progress, a kiss for the sake of kissing someone before apparent death. Having analyzed everything from their previous years, Hermione place her bets on the first one; even though he appeared to be unconnected emotionally. She had an inkling it had to do with reality of life after the war, as well as Fred's death, so she didn't want him to feel more pressure than he already was.

She turned to walk towards the entrance once he nodded. His footsteps were rushed to catch up to her, and she felt him suddenly take hold of her hand. She looked at their hands, then lifted her eyes to his. His ease turned to awkwardness when he pulled away, and stuck his hand in his pocket. Redness creeped up his neck, threatening to enclose his cheeks. She narrowed her eyes at him, not in anger, but concern. It wasn't that she didn't want to hold his hand, she did much more than she would've liked to admit, he just caught her by surprise. It felt like third year all over again. Reaching out to him, she grabbed his wrist. He looked at her before sliding his hand out from the fabric of his jeans, and intertwining his fingers with hers. Hermione turned so he couldn't see the smile on her face or the color in her cheeks, and guided him through the array of parked cars.

He pulled out his wallet when they reached the front gate. He insisted on paying, but Hermione reminded him he couldn't pay in galleons, knuts, or sickles, so he huffed and allowed her to use muggle money, insisting to pay her back later. Muggle money was strange; it appeared to be transferable by little plastic cards. He stared at it, then at her, and back at it again. He thought it was fake. How could currency flow from that little piece of plastic when it was so thin? He gently grabbed it from her hand when the teller gave it back to her, and examined it. Hermione took the tickets, maps, and brochures as Ron shook the card, seeing if anything would fall out of it. Once she was settled, Hermione took it back from him. He looked at her in question.

"It's a debit card." She explained. He scrunched his nose. She smiled, and took his hand again to pull him through the gate. "I'll explain later; let's go!"

It was just as he pictured from the aerial view he got at the top of the exit ramp. He'd been to the muggle world a few times before, but it was never like this. The air surrounding them was light, beneficially chaotic, and full of joy. It was lively. There was just so much to take in; his brain could probably handle it all at once. After a thorough scan, he'd have to look back again because he couldn't remember all of the details he so desperately wanted to memorize. With every passing object came a new satisfaction. Voids, he didn't even knew were within himself, filled with every new thing he couldn't explain. A laugh, genuine and real, broke from his lungs for the first time in far too long.

Hermione watched him, their hands still connected at the fingertips. A heat spread through her chest that had nothing to do with summer, and she found herself just as satisfied as he was. She couldn't draw her attention away from him. A fire could have started and she wouldn't have noticed it, because his brightness was more illuminant than any other. She'd found herself staring at him several times through the course of Hogwarts, but normally she'd look down when he sensed her gaze, and met her eyes; she found no reason to look away this time. Ever so present in the years previous, she never truly appreciated what he brought to the group. She might have been the moon, intelligent and full of wonder, and Harry might have been the Earth, inhabited yet left unexplored, but Ron was the sun. He was warm and radiating, a constant, and they both needed him in their own way; they just didn't realize it. You don't know what you have until it's gone. You never fully understand the sun's importance until it doesn't rise in the morning. His smile was a gust of wind in stagnant Spanish heat. It was something she couldn't get enough of, something she wouldn't let go.

He peered into her eyes just as she peered into his. He saw the faint turn of her mouth, and it made him purse his lips happily, with a hint of embarrassment. He looked down at the cement, noticed it was engraved with a small pattern, and met her eyes again. He saw her chest rise and fall quickly in a grateful huff, and she stepped closer to him.

"Let's go." He repeated her words from moments ago, and with a sinister smirk from her, they were off.

They decided to get something to eat first, and to get that coffee Ron had been desperate for. When they stood in line, she told him to mind the summer blaze and get it iced, but he didn't listen. Coffee normally made him sweat in the cold of winter, so naturally, with the sun beating down on him, it was much much worse. He wiped his brow discreetly and continued eating. Hermione studied him as she ate. It wasn't soon before long she excused herself to stand in line again, and before Ron could protest she held out a bottle of water towards him.

"I don't want you passing out."

"I'm not going to pass out; I've never passed out in my life."

"Quidditch World Cup, fourth year." She reminded him, raising an eyebrow. "Do you remember?"

"No, I don't." He shook his head, and watched the bottle come down to rest on the table in front of him. She smiled before sitting down again.

"Of course you don't, because you passed out."

He smiled, shaking his head, and did as she suggested. She was right, though they weren't fighting in the middle of a battle or anything, falling unconscious would not be good.

She then explained the usage of credit cards, since he's seemed so intrigued earlier. Though he nodded his head, he didn't quite get it; all these muggle things were so overwhelming.

Every so often there would be a rumble from above, and a car would go shooting passed on the rails, people screaming at the top of their lungs. He couldn't decipher whether or not they were screams of joy or fear, he settled on them being a mixture of both. When he's finished eating he took their trays and tossed the garbage atop them into a small bin labeled 'trash'. He knew he couldn't take it with him anywhere, but he brought his drink along for the walk to wherever it was they would be going first. One hand holding his drink, and the other holding Hermione's hand, he looked at her when she said his name.

"I think we should probably cool off first. Don't you think?" She inquired, slowing to a stop.

It was quite hot outside. The moisture at the base of his neck was becoming quite irritating. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea." He agreed, then she smiled. "What?" He was so busy looking at her that he hadn't even bothered to look where they'd stopped. He lowered his cup from his mouth. He began to witness a giant log-like capsule drop about a hundred feet into icy water below. The screams died down, the log drew nearer, and Ron could see that even the people in the back weren't safe from the water's wrath. He looked at Hermione, pointing. "You wanna do that?"

"As long as you're with me, yeah." She responded. He was taken aback by her unexpected and flirty answer, but nonetheless, it pleased him. She too had noticed what she's said and began to chuckle. This caused him to laugh too. She smacked him in the arm playfully and guided him into the line.

Thankfully, it was shaded, but they didn't have to wait long. He waited for Hermione to do whatever it was that needed to be done so he could do it as well. All she did was shove her purse in a little bag in front of them. He looked around for any kind of safety mechanism, but he saw none. He looked at Hermione in worry.

"You'll be fine. You're not going to go flying out like you'd think." She assured, placing her hand on his knee.

At her touch, he found he wasn't worried anymore.

The boat jerked suddenly, and he sprawled to grip the sides. He accidentally squashed Hermione between the back of the seat and his arm in the process, but she didn't mind. Surprisingly enough, she found it amusing.

"Relax, they just let us go." She laughed, nodding towards the platform, which they were floating past. He withdrew his arms.

"Right." He said. "I knew that."

It was quite peaceful in the beginning; they weren't doing anything besides floating along. The only thing that was slightly comfortable was his long arms being stuck at his sides. He rolled his shoulders, but it didn't help much. What he really needed was to stretch. So, he did. He rested his arm on the back of their seats, reaching out past Hermione. Next thing he knew she was leaning into him, her head notched in his neck. It wasn't his intention, but he certainly wasn't complaining. He nudged her head with his in recognition.

People began to make noise, causing Ron to pull away and look for the culprit. They'd gained speed in the boat; the drop was coming. The front tipped over the edge, and their stomachs were left at the top. He felt weightless as they fell, but he also felt like he was about to vomit. A woman screamed behind them, obviously not liking the feeling, but luckily for her, the pull of gravity made it short lived. He felt the bottom of the log scrape the channel again so he opened his eyes, only to close them again because of the up and coming tidal wave. It crashed on the log's inhabitants, swallowing them whole. He gasped at the coldest of the water, then wiped his eyes of the water. He wasn't sure when he'd done it, but sometime during the free fall he'd gripped the interior handle. His other arm was pushed against Hermione, an attempt to keep her in her seat. His forearm pressed over her now drenched chest and stomach, he could feel her accelerated breathing and heartrate. Not wanted her to think he was trying anything, he brought both arms back uncomfortably to his sides.

The worker halted the boat with his foot, and Ron felt the underwater clamps engage. They stepped off the platform. It was refreshing, but feeling his wet shorts, Ron accidentally voiced his first thought.

"Shit, I'm gonna get swamp ass." He said to himself. Wringing out her hair, Hermione scrutinized him from a couple feet away. He smiled at the face she made. "That was great, and I think it's worth it, but endgame is inevitable."

She tried to hide a smile behind a scorn, but it only resulted in the scrunching of her face. She grabbed the ends of her shirt and wrung it out, just as she had done with her hair. Water droplets hit the pavement, but it didn't do much good. Ron followed suit as they walked with the rest of the group. They went off to the side and tried to release as much water from their clothes as they could.

"What'd you think?" She asked happily, looking down at the patterns made on the cement from their drippings.

"It's great! Ingenious really, I'm impressed, and kinda jealous." He admitted, leaned closer and began whispering to her. "The Wizarding World doesn't have anything close to this."

"I know, I'm surprised." She said, watching him trying to make his hair stay out of his eyes. "I guess it's one thing my parents have up on us."

"My dad always said that they made a really good use of what they had, and they did a really good job making things easier with their smarts and stuff. I guess we don't have that because for most things there's a- you know". He paused and made a motion with his hand, resembling casting a spell. "For."

Hermione smiled. That same dramatic rumble sounded again, and the two looked up to see another passing car. "Would you kick to go on that one next?"

"Are you mental?" He joked, shielding his eyes and looking at the coster. "We will definitely fly out of that one."

"There's more security in those, a lot more." She told him. When he looked harder he saw straps across the people's' chests along with wide grins on their faces. He swallowed. If he were to be honest, the thought of going on that striked a whole new fear in him. "Come on, you have to! It's part of the experience. If you don't like it, I won't make you ride it again."

"Do you like them?" He asked sweetly.

"Most people do. I mean, some of them are too wild for me, but for the most part I'm all for it."

Ron knew Hermione had a trait centered around control; if she felt out of control, she wasn't happy. Knowing this eased him. If Hermione liked it then it couldn't be too bad. He grabbed her hand and took off, trying to beat a family of four to the line.

Ron in line was just as she imagined. He constantly moved between the ropes, unable to stand still. He would be leaning on one rail for a moment, then moving behind her the next. Even when he did stand still, he would move his knees in a way that made him look as if he were minimally jogging in place. She wasn't sure if it was just him, or if it was exaggerated due to excitement. Either way, the actions that would have annoyed her in previous years only brought a smile to her face.

She'd watched him grow over the years, so his attractiveness hadn't been so apparent to her at first. However, when she looked around at all the other boys, her appreciation for him increased. Not that she didn't know before, she had always found him easy to look at, but it had become more profound as she really looked him with a fresh mind. Scanning the room, she even compared him to the muggle boys. Apparently, some muggle girls had done so also. A beautiful blonde and her two friends stood a ways in front of them and kept looking back. They would then turn back and giggle to themselves. Ron didn't notice, but that didn't stop her from seeing red. He didn't even take any notice to them, yet jealousy ripped through her like a bullet. She stared at the adjacent wall, chin turned up and eyes narrowed, just like she wanted to look at them. Hermione noticed the blonde's eyes flicker her way, then back to Ron. She smirked when her eyes landed back on the brunette. Hermione smiled fakely; she wanted to fight her. She wanted to curse her where she stood. She could have done so easily too; a wandless confundus charm would have sufficed, but she decided against it because Ron could've noticed. She looked up at him and continued smiling. She had to play the girls' game.

Taking a step in his direction, she grabbed his hand. He turned on the spot.

"Hm?" He questioned.

"Nothing," She said, still grinning and leaning against his arm. "I just wanted to hold your hand."

"Oh." He expressed, breaking their joint and instead wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and kissed him on the cheek before lowering her head back down to his chest, and resting her cheek against him. He rocked them playfully, and she got a glimpse of the girls from across the way. They looked the pair up and down, some looking disappointed and others disgusted, then turned to mind their own business. Hermione smirked in triumph, relishing in the fact that Ron didn't even know what had just transpired.

When they'd gotten to the front of the line, and into their car, Hermione pulled down their harnesses and assembled them accordingly. The release of pressurized air ran through the air, and they slowly crept out of the loading block. They came to a hill like peak and began to climb.

"This isn't so bad." Ron commented. Hermione looked at him in wonder. He had no idea what was coming. Speed kick in as soon as the nose hit the top. She wished she'd tied her hair back for it flung in her face, and she couldn't see Ron's expression as he screamed. Wind blew in her face, and her body was thrust to the side as the car took a sudden turn. She yelped, laughed, and found herself screaming during certain points too. They halted for a moment. It was just enough time for Hermione to push the hair out of her face and take a look at the wizard next to her, who had his head tilted back, laughing. Before she could blink, they were pulled backwards. They came to a grinding halt at the station.

They hopped off, Ron with great speed, and ran to the exist. She wasn't expecting him to rush, but she kept up with him. She understood when she found him at the exit, bent over the nearest trash can. Walking up to him, she rubbed his back, trying to ignore the sounds he was making.

"Sorry, I didn't think you would get sick." Hermione said sympathetically. He rose his head and wiped his mouth.

"Can we go again?" He insisted, coughing. Hermione chuckled and slapped his back.

Before riding anything else, Ron took a turn in the bathroom to wash the nasty taste out of his mouth. Hermione offered him a mint, he took it gratefully.

They boarded some other coasters; they even got to ride one three times without getting off. After the second time, their clothes had been blown dry. With her hair in that awkward stage between wet and dry, Hermione put her hair in a high ponytail. Ron would play with it while they were in line. He would twirl it around his fingers mindlessly as he spoke, and swat it like a cat playfully to get her attention.

As the day went on, the two became more comfortable with their physical affection. They were never more than a foot away. Hermione stopped being surprised and embarrassed when Ron kissed her on the head around other people. Though a blush consumed Ron's cheeks every time Hermione would peck his cheek or wrap her arm around his waist, he didn't care about the stares of others. They were in their own little world. Neither of them paid much attention to anyone else. They became so immersed in each other, they were constantly being told by the people behind them to move up. It was annoying to anyone in range of sight, but not to them.

After hearing Ron's stomach growling, Hermione suggested they stop to get something else to hold them over till dinner. They were both in the mood for sweets, so they found a booth that sold ice cream. Ron found them some shade to sit under and they talked about the day, and how things were going at both their homes.

"My parents are in some little town off the beaten path." She told him between spoonfuls. "I guess I made their thirst for adventure a little too strong, given they went to the middle of nowhere to 'be face to face with wildlife'."

"Well, that just means it was really powerful and you should be proud." He said, licking a drip that was about to fall from his soft serve.

"Thanks." She said, looking down. There was a pause, though normal for him, sad for her. She stirred her food and watched it swirl at her motion. "Do you think they would want their memories back?" She asked, Ron looked up. "Aren't they better off where they are? Only involved in the muggle world? I know the war is over but there's still a threat to us, should I just leave them be?"

He gaped at her. He didn't understand how she could think her parents wouldn't want to remember her, that something would make them so scared as to want to reject her. "Of course they want to remember you, they're your parents Hermione." She looked down. Ron moved so close to her that their hips collided, and directed her chin back up with the tip of his finger. "Like you said, it's over. It's okay to bring them back."

"What if they're having fun though?" She asked, sighing. "I don't want to take them from the time of their lives."

"The people in Australia are not your parents; they are the people you wanted them to be. Even if they are enjoying themselves, that's them, not your parents." He explained in a comforting tone. She formed a small grin for him before she went back to eating.

Droplets from Ron's ice cream ran over his fingers and onto the ground. He shifted it to the other hand, and flicked the droplets off his fingers. With the melted milky substance still on his fingertips, he touched her nose. She looked at him in shock, then wiped her face. He laughed as she looked at her hand to find out what he'd done. Upon realizing, took her spoon and flicked its contents at him. Liquid chocolate splattered his face. He flinched when it hit. She laughed, covering her mouth.

"Okay, I see how it is." Ron said, wiping his face and neck with a napkin.

"I didn't think it would be that bad." She assured, slightly slouched over with her bowl in her mouth.

"It's fine, it's fine," he said, before pressing his come into her cheek. She yelped, jumping away and grabbing her bowl to press directly into his nose. He stood and the bowl fell onto the concrete. "Now, that's not fair."

"You started it." She reminded him, chuckling and wiping the melted cream from her cheek. He did his best to wipe the mess away, but his fair skin was still tainted brown. He began to eat away at the cone again. Hermione roared with laughter. "You're still eating it?"

"Yeah," he confirmed as if any other action would be unacceptable. "I'm not wasting this."

"Well, finish it quickly so we can go wash up." She suggested, picking up her bowl and throwing it in the trash.

He did just that.

Naturally, Hermione was able to wash quicker, as she don't have nearly as much to clear away. She sat on a planter box outside the bathrooms, waiting for him. He'd only been apart from her for minutes, and she was already missing him. A few minutes went by and he emerged from the door. The collar of his shirt was darkened with water, evidence of how he'd scrubbed the mess away. She stood to meet him, and they ventured in the way of the ride Hermione had been most looking forward to.

"What is this?" He asked, at the eerie music and setting of the line.

"It's a ride based off an American horror film series." She informed, and began to describe what the movies were about.

"I always took you for a scary movie person." He admitted. "But something like a serial killer kidnapping people, them putting them in traps that rip them apart in one way or another is just plain sick. By the way, that doll is creepy as shit."

Making their way to the front of the line, and eventually into the car, Ron finally figured out the safety contraptions and how to use them. It wasn't that difficult if you didn't think about it. When the car started to move, he heard a childlike, sinister laugh. "That's disturbing." He mumbled to himself. Suddenly, the car jerked in a way he did not expect, and they were flying. By the time the ride was over, his body hurt from the abuse it'd taken that day. He rolled his shoulder, and Hermione rubbed the back of her neck.

With the sun hanging lower in the sky and the night breeze beginning to form, the air became cooler. They watched the line for the water ride get shorter and shorter until there was no one at all. Ron and Hermione decided it best to take a break from the shuffling excitement and shop around in the little stores.

Most of the stores looked the same on the inside, and they had similar merchandise. There were varying sweatshirts, snow globes, magnets, and keychains. They came across a few stuffed animals, one Hermione insisted she took a picture with. Ron tried on various pairs of sunglasses and even later them in odd ways just to see if he could hear her laugh once more. At one point, the two lost each other in the store. Eventually, Hermione found him in the T-shirt isle. Two elderly women fretted over the two as they roamed they store. Ron pretended not to notice, but it was hard given he wanted to smile with every word they said.

"I remember when Gerald and I were young," one began. "We were just like them. I hope they enjoy their youth together."

"I hope so too." The other, the older of the two, agreed. "Martin looked at me like that. I wish he would look at me like that again; oh, I wish there was a way for me to just spend the day with him. I'd give anything to have him

back. They need to appreciate their time together, it's not infinite, even if it might seem so."

"I think they are." The first hinted. "She's just so cute, and he's cute too. They're just cute together. I can tell they really care for each other."

He smiled to himself as Hermione led them out. They rode the SAW themed coaster one last time before deciding that their day was well spent, and that it was time to go home.

After hours of holding her hand and standing so close to her, having to sit in solitude with them inches apart was almost painful. He realized he would have to get over that fast however, as he remembered the long drive to get there. They approached the highway, and Ron noticed she'd turn the wrong way.

"Where are we going?" He asked, looking out the window.

"I was going to take you back to my house." She said, warily, hoping he wouldn't become angry with her for not informing him of the plan. "I don't live far from here, about forty-five minutes. I figured you could apparate home easier than me driving you back for four hours."

"Right, yeah. That's smart." He said, somewhat disappointed he didn't get the extra hours alone with her.

"I figured we could make some dinner too. I haven't had a proper meal since I've been alone. Or we could just order take out. I mean, it would be faster, and I can tell we're both exhausted." The girl rambled on. She always rambled when she was nervous. She could have denied the truth, but what good would that have done? She was anxious about the two of them being alone in her house. It wasn't that she didn't trust him or anything, it was just the totality of the circumstances. She was nervous but in an excited way. Nothing would happen, she knew that, but still, the possibilities were endless, and just the thought of possibilities made her heart race.

She could tell he was thinking the same thing too. He was slouched in his seat, red in the face, and suddenly fascinated with his cuticles. She took the mutual stress as a good thing, and surprisingly, it gave her comfort.

Turns out, Ron hated muggle music. She would turn up the volume when her favorite songs came on, and he would scrunch his nose in disgust. She tried several different stations, but none of them suited his liking. She didn't expect him to like it however; muggle music was very different from wizarding music, and she didn't care much for the latter as it wasn't what she was raised on. It took them about an hour to get back to her house due to traffic.

He examined the outside of her home. It was a suburban house, not much different from the others. Looking around at the surrounding houses, he wondered if the people knew that such an extraordinary, perfect girl, lived in this house that blended in with all others. Standing behind her, he peered over her shoulder to see her hand slightly trembling as she stuck the key in the lock. He wondered if he should point out her apparent nervousness or not. He couldn't figure out which decision would make the situation more awkward, so decided to leave it be. He expected her house to be unfurnished, given her parents moved out, but it wasn't.

"My parents decided to just leave, and not take the time to bring anything." She explained, as if she'd read his mind. "I planted that in their head, I wanted them to leave as soon as possible. Also, I didn't want to be sleeping on the floor when I came back."

"Smart." Was all he managed. She truly was smart, Hermione, it was one of the qualities he liked about her. She had a way of taking things bit by bit, and analyzing them to form several different possibilities, like a tree with several branches. She provided insight he would have never thought of.

She called a restaurant, and ordered take out like they'd discussed. Ron was shocked at how quickly it came by. It was another thing they didn't have in the wizarding world. They ate on the couch, sitting and talking, as the television wasn't working. Hermione said something that made his laugh so hard he nearly spit his food at her. What was funny about Hermione was that she never really meant to be funny, she just was. Most of the time, her serious comments were worded in such a way he couldn't understand and they sounded silly to him, then she'd correct herself, having used the wrong word. She would jumble up words too, and say them in the wrong order. She misspoke a lot, which he found amusing.

She didn't appreciate people laughing at her when she made a mistake in her speaking, but when Ron did it, it was okay. It was more than okay; she loved making him laugh, even if it was at her expense.

The only source of entertainment besides each other's company was an old record player Hermione had dug up from the depths of her dad's closet. The music was much different than what Ron heard in the car on the way back, he liked it more, it reminded him more of the music he grew up listening to. Hermione stood beside the sink, cleaning their utensils and throwing containers in the garbage. He was looking at her when a song played that reminded him of the Yule Ball. Hermione had gone with Krum, which still pissed him off, but he had a chance to redeem himself and get another leg up on the Quidditch player.

He made his way over to her, and snaked his arms around her middle. She flinched as he did so, then looked back. "What are you doing?"

"Pulling you away from what you're doing." He said playfully in her ear, slightly pulling her backwards.

Hermione smiled, dropping the dishes in the sink, and turning to face him. "What exactly are you pulling me away for?"

He took her hand in his and held their arms over their heads, she understood, spinning slowly under the bridge he had formed. He didn't know how to dance, but that was okay, because neither did she. They were not uptight about it, they swung each other around like dolls, and laughed in the process. It was extremely uncoordinated. He would spin, she would spin, arms would bump each other on accident, both of them trying to get the other to do different moves at once. They were face to face, side to side, he was behind her, and she was behind him. He picked her up and spun around with her. She screamed.

"Now don't you try doing that to me!" He joked, placing her back on the floor. She laughed harder, silently thankful to once more be reliant on her own two feet.

Their craziness died down, and they swayed on the spot. He was tall enough to rest his chin on the top of her head with nothing but a slight tilt, while she pressed her forehead into his chest. He held onto her hand with one hand, and stroked her hair with the other. He shifted as to have his forehead lean against her hairline, and he got to take in the smell of her hair.

He was calm. He was happy. She was the bright light at the end of the tunnel, and he had reached that end. Nothing was worse than realizing he had to retreat back into that tunnel, only to gaze at the light with longing once more.

"I don't want to go back," he whispered. She stopped their swaying to look up at him with sad eyes. "I don't want to go back."

"Ron-"

"It's Hell at home." He confessed. "No one's talking to each other, everyone is crying all the time. I couldn't escape it, and it only made me worse. I thought I would never get better, but days like this, like today, this is what I need, not people who are constantly swollen and misty eyed. I'm so happy right now. That's what I need to recover; I need people to show me their happiness. I need you."

"They're your family." She said quietly. "You can't just leave them."

"As ridiculous as it might seem, I think we're all better off without each other really, for right now anyway." He admitted, stepping away from her and sitting on the couch. She followed suit, placing her hands in her lap. "I get it. I finally get it, how everyday was either the same or worse than the last; why I was so drained all the time. I was in mourning yes, and I still am, but we are feeding off of each other's sadness. it's a cycle that will continue for a very long time, unless someone stops it. I think we all should find our solstice, and run with it."

Hermione stroked his hair, fixing it for him so the strands would not fall into his eyes. She was his solstice, he'd just admitted it whether he was aware of it or not, and that caused her heart to double in size. She thought for a second that this growth had collapsed her lungs, as she suddenly lost the ability to breathe. When he looked at her, she regained it. It was rushed, and no matter how many breaths she took, she could not keep up with her need for air. The boy that made her laugh at the blink of an eye could make her cry just the same, and he could make her feel like this with less energy than taking a breath. That was dangerous; he was dangerous to her in a way she'd never experienced before. She'd been fighting and rejecting this danger since the middle of their fifth year, but she was tired. She couldn't fight anymore. She succumbed in that moment, she accepted the emotional threat he posed to her, and welcomed it with open arms. She figured that even if it did come back to kill her in the end, the thrill of him would be worth the pain. It would be better than the throbbing wonder of _what if_? Hermione Granger never gave up, it was bittersweet defeat.

He couldn't take it anymore. With her and all she was, looking at him with such a soft and kind expression, he couldn't stop at just staring at her lips like he'd done since the moment they entered the park. He cupped her face and leaned in, but she met him in the middle.

The second kiss wasn't anything like their first. The first was rushed. It was done for the sake of doing it, not because they wanted someone to kiss before they risked their lives, but because the one thing they both wanted to do before death was feel the other's embrace. It wasn't private. Harry had been their for God's sake. It was vigorous, and shallow, but it gave them strength. It was a fight and an apology all at the same time. This wasn't any of that.

They were weak. It knocked the wind from their lungs and every consuming thought from their mind. Hermione nearly went limp. If it weren't for Ron's arm wrapped tightly around her waist, pressing her against him, she would have crumpled. Her hand found the back of his neck and she pulled up on him for more support. Both unable to breathe, they struggled for breath against each other, but they wouldn't break apart. It wasn't vigorous or shallow, it was deep and hard. They wanted every gap between them closed, physically and emotionally.

They say the first kiss is supposed to have a spark, for them, it was the second.

Hermione was the one to break away, her hand placed on his chest to halt him. He rested his forehead against hers, still in desperate need to be close to her. "Come with me." She breathed. "Ron, come with me to Australia."

He pulled away to examine her, to see if she was joking. "But you said-"

"I know, I changed my mind." Her hand dropped to holding his, and she shuffled on the couch to face him more. "It wasn't that I didn't want you to go with me, because I do, I just thought it's be best for you to stay with your family. Now that you've told me how you feel, I want what's best for you, and if that's coming with me then-"

His tight hug cut her off. She reciprocated, rubbing his back and placing a kiss on his shirt clad shoulder.

"I'll go tonight and pack my things." He told her, letting her go. "I'm not going to tell mum, I'm just going to go. I'll tell Bill to tell her after I've already gone. There will be Hell to pay for it but I know she won't let me go, and I think it's worth it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He looked out the window and the sun was well beyond set. he glanced at the time on the wall. "It's pretty late. I should probably get going."

"Yeah," Hermione said, biting then wiping her lip. "I was just supposed to suggest that."

He kissed her again, short, soft, and gentle. She rose with him off the couch and stood as he checked his pockets to make sure he had everything before disapparating.

"I still don't want to go." Ron said. She approached him and ran her hand along his arm.

"I don't either, but you have to." The took a moment to study each other before wrapping one another in their arms.

"Thank you," he whispered in her shoulder. "For today."

When they let go there was a crack, and suddenly, he was a hundred miles away.

She was alone. The dark had an instant effect on her as soon as Ron disappeared. It was no quieter than any of the other nights she'd spent there, but once he had filled the room with his voice, the presence was everlasting, causing the silence to seem eerie. She meandered to the sink to finish the dishes he'd pulled her away from. A smile crept to her face, thinking of their stupid dance. She could have only ever done that with him, anyone else she'd be too embarrassed. He hadn't been gone a minute and she was already thinking about him; she was already missing him. It was so early on, but she couldn't help but thinking about the signs. All she wanted to do was see him. She would have thrown time away with anyone else just to catch a glimpse of him. She missed him dearly after mere minutes. The thought of being without him shook her core more than any threat from Voldemort ever did. She couldn't make excuses for herself anymore; she loved him. Sure they haven't been together for very long, she knew that, and that was what scared her, but the more she thought about it the more it made sense.

She already loved him, before, as a friend. Friend love and romantic love aren't that far apart. It only takes a friendship set aflame to start a romance, and that's what they'd done. She'd loved him for a long time, it just morphed into a different form. Or maybe it was always in that form, and she just wasn't aware of it at the time.

She sighed, placing the dishes in the dishwasher and turning it on. She felt guilty. She should have told him to stay until she left. She showed him the cure for the plague that had swept across the Burrow, but he couldn't have it yet. First, he'd have to go back into suffering. Hermione took some comfort in knowing that she'd ultimately be able to take him away for several days, if not weeks. She just hoped he wouldn't slip back into the state he was in before she offered him a distraction; before he was okay. That was the whole mission, was to make sure he was okay before she left. She never expected this at the start. However, things grow in the direction they do, and sometimes you can't stop them, just like her and Ron.


End file.
